TBLT: Three Into Four
by RadRapo
Summary: Blanky got to come along on car rides sometimes. While on one, the family stops at a yardsale, picking up something new in the process. The toddler Master labels it as "a new friend", his mother claims it's "a cute one", but how are the other appliances going to fare? How is this shiny, reflective newcomer going to settle in? (Timeline: Pre-TBLT.)
1. I Seemed More Special, Then

_**Three Into Four**_  
_Written by RadRapo_

_Part 1/2: I Seemed More Special, Then_

The Master sure had grown since last Summer. As the token "security blanket", Blanky was first to realize it, well before the others had. Perhaps it was because of those circumstances, but the fact remained - he just _knew._ He always did.

The moment he'd heard the familiar car approaching the cottage, he no doubt warned them, as he did annually. It'd become tradition. Now, Radio too had excellent hearing, but even he probably would've mistook _the_ car for _some_ car. This was the distinguishing factor.

It was weird to the Bakelite, but in the end, supposed that it was just the way it is. It took him a while to come to that realization. Envy was always one of his greatest flaws, not that he'd admit to any. Though, it was obvious to basically everyone else, moreso since...

Blanky got to come along to car rides sometimes. Ah, they all could hear Radio approaching already, whilst the family prepared for departure.

"It's already warm enough outside!" His complaining tone was ever so clear. "_Why_ would they need _more_ of it?!" Boy, were they lucky the Master wasn't within earshot. Just three days in, and they noticed how the kid's vocabulary grew by the hour.

It'd only take one accidental slip of the tongue (or speaker, in this case) before the parents catch wind of quite the inappropriate word being uttered by their own son, then wondering _where in the world_ he picked it up.

"Maybe they overdo it on the car's AC," Joked Air Conditioner. "I mean, it wouldn't be surprising that they'd need something to balance it out."

"But there's only one blanket to go around," Radio wasn't laughing with his response. "Besides that, it's the Master that always wants him to go! It's..." He fumbled to find a good word for it. As he did so, Kirby kept his distance from the situation, simply not caring enough - or so others ought to believe.

"In my opinion, it's an honor," TV chimed in, his reaction a contrast to the jealous Radio's. "He must think you're quite special. Maybe even his fav-"

"Don't say it!" Radio interrupted, "There's no such thing!" Finally, Blanky cleared his throat.

"It's because..." Yet, he was still gentle sounding, as to not provocate further. "He doesn't need me for my warmth. He needs me as a friend." This finally seemed to silence the red Bakelite, though it was hard to tell what he was feeling. Lacking a conventional face did that.

Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to forge any sort of comeback. The family was coming down the stairs. They hid in their spots and froze just as the Masters and Mistress came into view. They heard the toddler's eager, thundering steps, Blanky being picked up by him, then being led out into the world. The door shut. Silence.

Then, Radio uttered, "What horse-" As though on cue, TV played a tone, censoring the expletive. Radio just continued to fume.

* * *

No matter how much the Master insisted, even shaking him, Blanky kept frozen. It'd become apparent that the rules had to change - the Master was able to articulate too much to be able to get away with keeping the secret while the parents were close by like this. Just a year ago, they could play without worry in this situation, but now...

He didn't like doing this, but knew he had to. Only if they were truly alone, would he "wake up", like the kid kept calling out. At last, the Mistress tried to make up a reason, by saying that Blanky was "trying to nap". Dejected, finally did the Master stop, but continued to keep Blanky close.

Every bit of "Wake up, Blanky! Why won't Blanky wake up?" stung deeply, and continued to replay in his mind the whole drive. He never knew pain like this, but he realized that the worst was yet to come - someday, he'd never again be able to play with the Master, the way they do.

He had to cherish every last moment from now on... Even if he only had three months.

The car parked, something about a yard sale, Blanky wasn't sure. Soon, he was alone in the vehicle. That was just the window the electric blanket needed to unfreeze, proceeding to weep into the adjacent carseat, it being anything but quiet.

"Kid troubles, huh?" Piped up the car, having no trouble overhearing Blanky's wailing. The voice emanated from the radio speakers. "Me too, Blanky. Me too."

"He's- He's-!" The smaller appliance tried to say, stuttering, "He's growing so fast! I wish I had more time...!"

"I know, I know..."

"Three months! Out of every year! Three!" Blanky continued, sounding a bit more frustrated than merely upset this time. "That makes nine months! Only! Nine! _Months! _He's three now! I won't be able to play with him next year! This is too much- It's too fast! I can't take this!"

"I know how hard it must be for you," The vehicle continued to comfort. "You can get through this, and you will! It's going to be okay." While still quite troubled, the electric blanket managed to calm down some.

"... You really think so?"

"I know so," Came the response, sounding certain. Then, he continued, "Oh! They're coming back. And they have some sort of... Thing, with them." Despite the way he was feeling, Blanky found it in himself to crawl back over to his spot and freeze.

The Masters and Mistress re-entered the car, the father helping the Master buckle into the booster seat, while the mother slotted in the "thing" on the other side. Once they were off, and as Blanky was being held by the Master again, the latter was going on about...

"A few friend"? The Mistress chimed in by describing it as "a cute one". Suddenly, the Master held Blanky in a way where he would've been face-to-face with the object, completely forgetting about the "nap" excuse and pleading for him to "Look! Look, Blanky! Look!" Only now, the electric blanket caved, but as carefully as he could. He revealed his eyes.

The "thing" was a box, with photographic art depicting... A metallic object, with two slots on its top. Blanky tried to focus on the text, not knowing what the contraption was. The ride's somewhat bumpiness helped disguise him, but it made reading so much more difficult.

Sun... Sunbeam. It sounded like a brand. Two... Slice... Toa... Ster. Two-Slice Toaster. Come to think of it, the art itself reminded Blanky of some of TV's more "classic" programming.

Just as he managed to finish, the Master gleefully pulled him back into his hold, causing Blanky to freeze immediately. He didn't mind, though; he was too distracted by curiosity over the "toaster". What _was_ that, anyway?

* * *

"A toaster," TV explained, and not without a demonstration on his screen, "Turns bread into toast! Heated, crunchier, and perfect for buttering or jamming! A regular breakfast staple!" Blanky stared at him, turning to the object now sitting, unboxed, on the kitchen counter, and then back to TV again. He caught something.

"... Heated?" He prodded, before rotating his dial of a nose. "Like me?"

"Yes!" TV nodded. "Like you!" The very next thing Blanky did was climb onto the countertop, inspecting the toaster in question. Meanwhile, Radio was studying the art of the box it came in.

"Hey, Rabbit Ears, take a look at this," He spoke up, TV coming over. "Just reminds you of something, doesn't it?" TV emitted a whistle before nodding, his avatar crossing his arms.

"Just amazing - something as archaic as we are!" Then, he laughed. Radio flashed him a look, but didn't seem amused.

"Ha ha ha," He replied in sarcasm. "Easy for _you_ to say..."

"From a yard sale, no less..." Finally Kirby said something, at first to keep the video and audio pair from launching an argument. Though, he noticed a detail the others hadn't so far. "The box has never been opened until now. It's in mint-condition."

Though AC was technically not in the room, his visage let him look over into the kitchen, clearly able to see what was going on, as well as being a look-out in case the family returned from their outdoor activities. In this moment however, even he was more than curious of the newcomer.

"What's that mean?" Blanky was heard asking. The kid sure had a lot of questions. Well, of course he would, AC realized, someone of his meager age would still be considered "new" to this whole thing.

"It means that toaster's never toasted in its life," Radio answered for Kirby, who honestly didn't mind. "Who knows what they did until finally deciding to sell it off, but it certainly _wasn't_ to take it out for a test drive." He paused, turning to Kirby, his tone now in disbelief. "Really, not even once?" Kirby only nodded. Radio said nothing for a short while. Then, he hopped onto the counter with Blanky, his voice suddenly at a booming volume.

"DEAR ROOSEVELT! THIS THING'S GOING TO RUN US OUT OF OUR HOME!" He began, Blanky jumping back from surprise. Yet, Radio reached out his antenna and cord to pick up the larger toaster. "_LET'S GET RID OF IT!_"

"What?!" Kirby yelled in exasperation. He whirred his motor and roved over to the counter, using his stem to attempt stopping the Bakelite. "Put that down! It's not going _anywhere!_"

"You can't just do that!" Blanky tried to add, fearing for everyone involved. "Let it stay! Think of... Think of the Master!"

"That's _EXACTLY_ why!" Radio retorted. The others began their bickering, as AC continued to look on. He sighed with an eyeroll.

"Really. _This_ again?" He muttered to himself, going unheard.

"Don't you see what's going on?" Radio tried to explain to Blanky, as now the rest of them were all trying to prevent his plan of action. "This shiny, reflecting... Glinting thing, is going to replace us!"

"No, it won't! The Master would _never_ do that!" The electric blanket was putting up a fight, AC observed. How bold of him; someone normally docile and passive, fighting so hard for a machine he hasn't even met yet. "You weren't there when they got it! How would _you_ know?!"

"DON'T remind me. But I've seen it happen, right before my very dial!"

"Oh, come on Loudmouth, you know I didn't mean to-"

"Don't you "Loudmouth" me, _Television!_ If not for you, I'd still be-"

"_RADIO! _Set it down, right now! Don't make me come up there!"

"Ha! Like you _could,_ Carpet Breath!" The bickering continued, AC finally looking away from the sight. Nothing was worse than shouting matches, and worst of all, he knew no one was going to listen to him. Unless...

"Hey! Family of the year!" He suddenly called, his face forcing out the smallest hint of concern. "They're coming back inside! Hurry up and get it together!" The fighting stopped almost immediately, they all turning to him. In haste, he added, "What, did I stutter? You guys gotta hide!"

With that, TV and Kirby left the kitchen, vacating to their spots in the closet and living room respectively. Only Radio and Blanky remained, but AC didn't get to see what they were doing. Yet, he heard. First, a small yell from the Bakelite, causing AC to leer over again.

In what seemed like desperation, Blanky had unfolded himself, not completely, but enough to tower over Radio as he carried him in his fabric corners. Radio, while still clutching the new toaster, squirmed and wiggled about.

"The Master said... It's a new friend." Yet, the electric blanket spoke calmly, in spite of it all. It was hard to keep his voice steady, as tears began to form. "Please Radio, let it stay. We're going to be okay. _You're_ going to be okay."

The smaller, red appliance seized up at that last sentence. It was hard to see for AC, but for Blanky it was clear, when Radio's usually North-facing dial needle dropped South. His voice was very quiet.

"... Okay."

Finally did he gently set the toaster down on the counter. As Blanky let go of the Bakelite in turn, all Radio did was scamper off toward the shelf to freeze. With a relieved sigh, Blanky rubbed at his eyes briefly, refolding himself up and proceeding to lay on the living room chair, face hidden and all.

With everyone in place, AC turned his attention to the window. Only now, the family was heading to the front door. Huh, so it won't have been be a ruse after all.

* * *

"I'm sorry that the Master's father did that to you."

"Well, you know... In hindsight, it was probably expected. They often move on to the next big thing. I'm lucky to still be here, to be frank."

"Still..."

"To think, when his dad was that age, he was all over me! I was his... Favorite." Radio paused at that last word, from the way the sounds and frequency vibrated his speaker. Then, he quickly added, "As you are the Master's, right now." Blanky nodded solemnly.

It took two weeks, but Blanky managed to get Radio to open up. After all, the fiasco with the toaster revealed something deeply rooted. Blanky wanted to help him, but for a time was unsure how.

Today however, everything changed. From upon the kitchen table, not far from the toaster they checked in on from time to time, the two talked.

"I'm sorry."

It began with an apology. Blanky had never heard Radio say such a thing before, often seeming too "above" that concept. Yet, for the first time since knowing him, the Bakelite had swallowed his pride, proceeding to explain the cause for his demeanor. In response, Blanky had inched over to and hugged him. The other made no move to get away.

"I'm still not exactly sure what I was thinking, with that terrible scheme," Back in the present, he pondered. "Was it for you? For me? For us all? Some kind of weird combination? I don't know, but in that moment... I was _terrified._" He paused, with a sigh, glancing over at the reflective appliance nearby them.

"One thing I _do_ know, is that those days are over. I should know better than to kick out someone who can't even _try_ to fight back!" Blanky gave him a small glare, Radio looking back and waving his antenna a bit. "Okay, okay, easy. I'm kidding..."

"I sure hope so," Blanky at last replied, releasing him the moment he fidgeted. As his gaze shifted over to the toaster, he noticed something, immediately departing from the kitchen.

"Hey, what's the hurry? We were still-" Radio began in confusion, before he cut himself off when Blanky called out to the others.

"Kirby! TV! Come quick! It's waking up!" Sure enough, as the Bakelite snapped back to the counter, he could see one of its levers twitching. He kept his dial on the machine as the other three filed back in, first Blanky, then TV, and finally Kirby, who was lagging behind. "Air Conditioner, you can see, right? Just look over here! Kirby, hurry up!"

"Hey, watch it!" The vacuum fretted when Blanky came back over and started pushing him forward. "I'm going, I'm going!" Once all were present, Blanky climbed to the counter, awaiting like the rest. He was the most eager, and it seemed quite odd.

Was it simply from the Master calling the toaster a "new friend"? Surely, there had to be more to it than the word of a three-year-old. Was it the reflective novelty? Or from the fact that he's never met a newcomer before? Nevertheless, they all watched in anticipation.

A face began to form, a pair of eyes and a mouth, all closed. The lever twitching continued, up until the eyes opened, slowly. Not long later, the now-awakened toaster looked around, surrounded by what seemed like expectant expressions. Feeling threatened, he darted his brown eyes around each one, turning defensive while stepping back, almost against the wall.

"What? What're _you_ looking at?!"


	2. Tabletops And Windowshades

_Part 2/2: Tabletops And Windowshades_

"Hello!" Next to him, Blanky waved with one of his corners. Swiftly, the toaster turned his attention to him, finding the other bearing a wide grin. "It's great to finally meet you! We were so excited!"

"Some more than others..." Kirby muttered, going thankfully unheard. When the reflective appliance didn't reply, Blanky continued.

"What's your name? I'm Blanky!"

"T... Toaster," He struggled to speak, no less calm than before. It was proving to be more than he could handle, and yet the rest of the attendees hadn't uttered a word he could hear. The elated Blanky next to him was too much so to realize it.

"Aw! Just as the Master did! He named me, too!" As the electric blanket continued to monologue, Toaster took further notice of his surroundings, as though trying to find an escape route. The radio remained perched on the table, while the vacuum and television impeded the only exit.

An idea came to mind - if they wanted to stare at him that badly, they'd have to move if he did.

"Say, Blanky," Finally TV chimed in, though trying to be polite. "Maybe now's not a good time to be talking his ear off, you know? He _did_ just wake up, after all..."

"What? Am I really?" There it was; a distraction. Without any further thought, Toaster abruptly leapt off the counter, his running start allowing him to land on the table. Radio stepped back, while TV and Kirby moved around the room.

"Whoa! You can _fly?!_" Radio recovered with a small bounce. Toaster barely heard him as he ran to the other end of the table, leaping off it and exiting the kitchen. He paused two meters out, seeing something from the corner of his eyes. Looking up at the wall, he found AC wearing a bemused expression.

In panic, Toaster ran off a second time. Everyone came over to and watched from the kitchen entrance. They saw the little appliance scurrying about frantically, unsure where to go, until his peg tripped on the rug, falling on his face. Silence.

"Oh, gosh..." Blanky sounded both distraught and embarrassed, corners framing his face.

"Newsflash! Brand new toaster trips in the living room of a peaceful woodland cottage! Sources say-" Just as quickly as Radio tried saying that, his button was smacked down by TV.

"I think you overdid it, kiddo," AC mused, "Juuust a little."

"I know, I know..." The electric blanket sighed. Since Toaster had not moved, Blanky shuffled over to him, slowly. With a quieter tone, he spoke again. "I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to scare you! I... Must've been a bit too eager..."

"Don't look at me," Muffled out Toaster, still not making a move to get up. It was an odd request, but Blanky quickly obliged, facing somewhere else. Anything to make the newcomer more comfortable.

"Okay! I'm not looking!" Luckily, the others took the hint, heading back to their normal spots. Space, and a lack of immediate attention was needed. As for AC, all he decided to do was change his gaze to the electric blanket. "Are you okay?"

"Not really."

"Do you need help getting up?" He heard Toaster start to prop himself back on his pegs shortly after.

"No no, I got it." Once stable, he glanced at Blanky. With some anxiety leaving him, he examined his surroundings. "So... This is the house. It's kind of... Small."

"Cottage," Blanky lightly corrected. "We live in a cottage." Toaster shot Blanky a look, before realizing he wouldn't be able to see.

"But those're out in the middle of nowhere!"

"Not "nowhere"! There's trees, and animals, and-"

"You know what I mean." With a groan, the toaster started to leave, towards the kitchen. Blanky felt defeated; Toaster seemed really disappointed.

"Were you hoping for something else?" That made him stop, but was undeterred by the electric blanket's saddened tone.

"Yeah, actually!" He snapped in agitation. "A city would've been great! Or in a town; heck, I'd even settle for the suburbs! Not some dull, no-name _cottage_ out in the country!" Then, he resumed his leave. AC glanced to and fro, noticing how Blanky proceeded to shuffle upstairs without another word, completely dejected and tearing up.

He looked right at Toaster. "Hey, you might wanna watch your wattage, there; or else we're gonna run into some... Difficulties."

_Oh, no._ TV was heard from his spot. Kirby however, kept silent from in his closet.

"Oh, yeah?" Toaster went to face the air conditioner in return, only to shrink back from the stare. "I said, don't look! Stop that!"

"Get used to it; the kid loves making faces into your chrome," AC didn't back down, sounding stern. "Anyway, you better start playing nice with the others. If you don't, your time here's gonna get bad, real fast."

"Why should I listen to _you?_ You can't touch me." As soon as Toaster uttered those words, AC glared, sending a powerful gust of chilled breeze in his direction. It'd been so unexpected that the smaller appliance slid back before falling over with a yelp. He couldn't stop shaking from the temperature change.

"Listen up!" The window unit's voice was raised this time. "I don't care if I'm in a wall, or running around on the floor! I'm _not_ going to let some entitled shmuck from a _yardsale_ run their mouth like the ungrateful little piece of junk they are! Now, you're going to start changing your wiring, or else. Because believe me, I can get _much. Colder!_"

Stunned to silence momentarily, it took all of Toaster's willpower to stand, heating elements initiated just to warm him up again. In turn, AC's anger slowly melted away when all he got in response was a quiet, meek "... Y-Yes, s-sir."

What was said about the Master was true. Every morning, Toaster noticed. At first, it felt like it was at him, which in some strange way, felt deserved. He shouldn't have the right to make toast for him, and, as perfectly as each slice came out, there was no pride.

It may as well have burnt to a black, charred crisp - the quality of his actions.

One day, after he had cooled down from his just-about-every-day service, he felt his top being struck- gently. A few times. If that was meant to hurt, the Master failed. Of course, that wasn't to denounce his strength, no, nothing of the sort. It just seemed... Unclear, what the motivations are.

"Toaster did great!" Oh. _Oh._ These were praising gestures. Did it mean forgiveness? No, that's silly, the Master couldn't possibly know about that. ... Could he?

In time, the face-making habit began to appear less punishing, and more endearing. It wasn't _at_ him, it was _with_ him, wasn't it? At some point, when they were alone, Toaster revealed himself to the Master, seeing him face to face. The reflective appliance then started making faces of his own. The toddler Master laughed and clapped.

It quickly became a face-off, Toaster slowly overcoming his earlier aversion. Despite this, however, guilt still crept all over the small appliance. He knew what he needed to do, not for his sake, but for the one he hurt.

He had to apologize to Blanky.

* * *

The very same day, the family was off for their usual Summer activities. They would be gone for most of the day, so that left plenty of time. As Toaster took in the humble cottage's interior, now with new eyes, he finally understood his circumstances. After all, it could've been worse; and as an appliance, having such luxurious expectations was disgraceful.

"Hey, you! Out of the kitchen, eh? I was starting to think you'd never come out!" He jumped as he heard the television set's voice, whipping around to face him. His on-screen avatar was wearing a blindfold. Toaster tried to keep from cringing. "That, you know, you hated it here so much, that you couldn't stand it!"

"... You can look at me, it's fine," Toaster tried to respond politely, knowing full well who was nearby enough to listen in. As the man on-screen complied, Toaster continued. "And, I've actually, um... Thought about that. I've found that it's... Not so bad." It was hard to admit, especially to himself.

"Isn't that kind of an understatement?" He flinched from AC's voice. Then, he heard him chuckle. "Yeah, I saw you playing with the kid. Looked like you didn't even think about it."

Yeah, well..." Toaster struggled. Yet, the look on TV's person was more assuring.

"Glad to hear that you've come around!" During all this, Kirby roved into the scene, looking as though he wished he had something better to do.

"Hey." They turned to him, it being the first time Toaster heard him before, or at least clearly. "You don't have to love it here. I don't know what would be more annoying - whether you think it's the best place, or the worst. Just... Don't cause trouble, got it?" Despite sounding assertive, Toaster wasn't swayed, surprisingly.

"No, no, of course. I won't," Was his reply, before remembering something. "Well, since you're all here, do you think it's too late to start over? Try again?" The others looked at each other, before agreeing. At that moment, Radio came trotting down the stairs.

"Oh, what's this? A gathering? Sounds promising!"

Well, Toaster supposed it saved him the trouble of multiple introductions... Or at least that's what he would've thought, if it weren't for the fact that Blanky wasn't here. Though, he didn't let this deter him. One way or another, he was going to apologize. As far as he was concerned, acquainting himself with the others was an extra task, at least right now.

Aside from a quip here and there, it went well. Though, it took almost three minutes to convince Radio that he couldn't fly. It was so strange how the smaller appliance was really hung up on that. Despite all this, Toaster was relieved to be able to put that awful first impression behind him. Once over, his journey continued.

From the bottom of the stairs, Toaster overlooked the flight. It was like a leering behemoth, compared to his meager size. Surely, Blanky had to be somewhere up on the second floor. As he embarked upon each step, more and more did Toaster notice how far from the kitchen he was becoming.

It felt like treading foreign land, rooms being akin to entire countries. Was this even allowed? Well, no one was stopping him, and they once entered the kitchen as though it was normal, so he supposed it was.

Before long, he was at the top, looking over from the railing. He tried not to imagine what it would be like, if he were to fall from a height like this, but failed. Would he survive, would he still function, would he be laughed at, or worse, be a disappointment...

He clung to one of the railing's poles, his vision growing dizzy. He clenched his eyes shut, in order to steady himself. Everything about this was strange; why should he be worried about that? He'd have to be _trying_ in order to make that mistake. Get it together, he scolded, the feeling fading as he opened his eyes again.

He turned his attention to the doors. There were two, and Toaster wasn't sure which one was going to be housing the electric blanket. After some thought, the one he decided on was a lucky guess, for it was left ajar. Inside, along with the rest of the Master's bedroom furnishings, was Blanky himself.

He was on the floor, surrounded by many sheets of paper, and wayward crayons. Upon each sheet, was a very crude depiction of skyscrapers under a night sky. Another pang of guilt punched Toaster in the gut (or carriage?), easily figuring out what was going on, as he opened the door wider to enter. Blanky turned to the doorway, before swiftly averting his gaze.

"Oh, hi-... Toaster," His greeting started out joyful, though became uncertainty. "I was hoping to surprise you, but it's okay. So... I had an idea! To help you feel better about being here. I know it's not the same; but, maybe, if it looked like we were surrounded by city buildings, it'd _feel_ like we were, too! So, I'd tape these on all the windows, and..." While he talked, Toaster approached, heavy regret on his features.

"There's... No need to do all this," He tried to respond, stepping carefully around the papers. "After all, I was pretty out of line. I'm really sorry, Blanky, I wish I hadn't been so rude..." Toaster could see the look in the electric blanket's eyes, even when he wasn't facing him head-on.

"That was rude?" Blanky asked, confused. "It hurt my feelings, but I'm used to that. We don't always get along, and I'm said to be very sensitive; it's just how I am. If you're sorry, then I forgive you." He glanced at the paper he was still working on. "... Are you sure it's okay? There isn't another person around here for miles."

The notion made Toaster shiver, but accepted it. "Yes, I'm sure." Trying to change the topic, he added, "You can look at me, Blanky. It's alright." The electric blanket finally did so, concern showing afterwards.

"And you're positive?" He would not let it go. Or, was it really that obvious? "Radio called you a "cityslicker", and everything..." What a name, but oh so accurate. If Toaster wanted to get through to him, he had to be honest.

"Well..." He started, "It's going to be hard, to get used to this. But from what I've seen of the countryside, it's not all that bad. I mean, as long as you guys are around, I'm pretty certain I'll be fine here. Besides, what do you think the family's going to say if they saw these on the windows?" At that last bit, he let out a nervous chuckle, as if hoping it was funny.

Blanky gasped instead. "Oh my gosh, you're right! I never even thought about that!" Like a yellow blur, he proceeded to round up every piece of paper, neatly stacking them together. "How am I going to get rid of these?!" Toaster blinked in surprise, before stopping him.

"No no, it's okay, it's... You've drawn with the Master, right?" Blanky nodded. "Where do your drawings usually go?" A second passed, before Blanky shuffled under the bed, then back out, this time without the papers.

"... There," He finally said, once done. "I don't want to keep them, but... It can stay for now." Without another word, he started to clean up the crayons. Toaster helped, deciding not to ask.

* * *

From the windowsill, Toaster watched the first snowfall of the year, as the flakes gently drifted from the sky. It was entrancing, to say the least. Just a few months before, the family had packed up and left, he wondering why.

_"Are they going on a trip, or something?" He'd asked, but not without some concern._

_"No no, Toaster; _we're _the trip," Radio explained, simply. "They leave every Labor Day."_

_"It's a _Summer_ cottage," Kirby roused himself to add. "Don't get your cord in a bind. They'll be back next year."_

_"Yeah..." Blanky sighed with a frown, echoing the words. "Next year..."_

_"Okay, then where _do_ they go?" Toaster wondered, this time showing some sass. "You know, for the rest of it?" The others turned silent, unsure how the so-called cityslicker of a toaster was going to handle the news. Not even Air Conditioner was willing to take one for the team._

_"To an apartment," At last, TV volunteered to take the brunt. "In a City. Not that far from here, by car." Everyone prepared themselves for some kind of outburst. From the stillness, they heard Toaster _laughing.

_"This. Explains. EVERYTHING!" He finally said, but no one understood what he meant. Actually, Toaster himself didn't, either; not quite._

The memory was interrupted, by a noise. Turning to see, Blanky entered the main room, carrying a stack of papers. Kirby, who was on his shift for supervising the fireplace, spoke up as the electric blanket came close.

"What're you doing?" As usual, he had a gruff tone.

"Adding some kindling." Blanky replied, calmly. Kirby inspected the top sheet of paper in the pile.

"You can't burn the Master's artwork-"

"Oh, no. These're mine." Kirby paused, looking like he really wanted to inquire further; it was completely unlike the electric blanket to do such a thing. With the smallest of glares, Blanky added, "I'd never do anything to hurt the Master. You know I'm better than that." Kirby almost shrunk back, reluctantly budging.

"Hm. Fine," While unused to this sort of reaction, he continued to keep at his stance. "Just don't burn yourself." With a nod, Blanky set the stack on the floor, picking up the first piece and crumpling it into a ball. He threw it into the flames. During this and the next few sheets, Kirby would glance over, just to make sure all was well.

"You know, I was so worried," The fuzzy appliance said, out of nowhere, "This was the last year I-... We, could play with the Master. Everything's going to be different next time. We won't even be able to say hello anymore. So, I tried to make the most of it, but I still wish I had more time. Oh, well... That's that." Kirby couldn't respond to any of this. After a few minutes, though, he finally mentioned something else.

"Alright, Blanket, that's enough," He started to say, "Save the rest for later, we don't want the fire to get out of control-" He cut himself off as he and Blanky both heard a _hiccup_ from Toaster's direction. What they found was the little toaster crying. Blanky sped over to him, instinctively holding onto him in dismay.

"Toaster, are you okay? What's the matter?" In that moment, Toaster stopped, realizing what was happening.

"I-... I..." He stuttered, needing to think about it. In that time, he managed to calm himself somewhat. "I just remembered why you drew those, and now you're saying that we won't be able to talk to the Master anymore, and... Anyway, you really want to do that...?"

"Yeah, I do," Blanky started to explain as Toaster finished. "I didn't want to keep those, right?" When the other nodded, he continued. "Well, I figured out how to get rid of them after all. They're a lot more handy this way, too!" Toaster found himself almost clinging to Blanky. Meanwhile, Kirby was trying to not eavesdrop, unsure of what to make of what was unfolding.

"And that's... That's fine?" Toaster almost stuttered again, struggling to get a grip on himself. This feeling was horrible, and was so difficult to bring back his lost composure. He wanted to smack himself in the face, anything to shock him out of this emotion. Though, even if he tried, he was sure he wouldn't have succeeded in this state.

"Yes, it's fine! Please, don't worry!" Blanky continued to assure, not once sounding annoyed, or even the least bit impatient. "It's fine, everything's fine, we're all fine..." In time, Toaster managed to settle down, through the soothing voice of the softest appliance in the cottage. As hard as it was to believe, he had to trust in those words.

It's not out of sadness. It's not out of obligation. It's not out of spite. It's not out of resentment. It's not to be petty. It's not to be insulting. It's not to be cruel. It's not to be punishing. It's not because he's being judged. It's not because he's hated.

It's because they were no longer needed to help him, and so Blanky didn't want 12 drawings about skyscrapers in his art pile. That's all.

Everything's fine.

"... Oh, and about the Master," Blanky recalled, still speaking softly, "Car told me that it's going to be hard, but I will get through it. And if I can, we all can. Together."

"... Yeah," Toaster nodded, "Together, we can handle anything."


End file.
